Never An Absolution
by Val-Creative
Summary: Krolia doesn't need happily ever after. She just wants him. /Pre-series. KroliaxKeith's Dad. Oneshot.


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A buzzing, midnight-colored insect lands on Krolia's nose. She flicks it away, sighing.

Keith's father — _"just call me Tex, alright," he insists, smiling like an innocent and kissing her with all of the joy and affection Krolia would never feel again for someone else_ — Tex has vanished from their bed momentarily, promising to return with a saucy, exaggerated wink.

She's unsure what he is planning to do, while Krolia is naked alone here and he's naked by himself out _there_ in the corridor, but waits regardless, lying down and folding her muscular, violet-hued arms beneath her. There's no mechanical, computerized noises in this sleeping quarters of sorts, or even a chrono to inform her of the varga. Just the droning of the insect above her and low whistling of the wind outside the window-pane and Keith's sleepy, murmurous breathing coming from his crib.

The stifling, yellowed desert air reminds Krolia of Naghir — a world entirely made of rock and sand. But Earth doesn't have the acidic-skinned beings who spoken in clicks and grunts, and excreted living, venomous bugs that she witnessed overpower a huge Galran fighter with six hundred years of battle-war experience, as they all burrowed right into his flesh and crawled out of his eye-sockets.

Doubtfully, there's anything like _that_. She thinks.

Krolia shifts open her legs, clenching up and then slackening, thighs still sweat-sticky and covered with Tex's _pleasure-fluids_. She enjoys the feeling of abnormally soft sheets on her naked, violet-hued bottom, and enjoys a familiar twinge of soreness deep inside her.

On a physical level, her cunt was normally more used to a bigger, widening stretch of Galra-cock. Depending on her companion and if the mood was right, she would let them fuck her until they locked their row of two to three flesh-knots until they pushed against Krolia's cervix. The first, intense wash of orgasm hit during the lock, when she was powerless to stop the torrent of hot, sloshing breeding-liquid, filling her, filling her womb until her abdominal cavity bulged.

There's been a few pregnancy-scares, but Krolia's body taught itself to _reject_ a foreign intrusion and a leeching of life. Getting pregnant would have been easy _if_ Krolia chose it.

(It took many, _many_ tries before Keith was properly conceived.)

Tex reappears in the doorway, his meaty fist landing gently on the wooden frame. He's wearing what appears to be old, dusty yellow bunker-trousers from his occupation and nothing else, slinging an axe over his shoulder casually. Maroon-colored overalls criss-cross over his bare, powerful chest.

"Where's the fire, ma'am?" he drawls out, wagging his bushy eyebrows.

Krolia examines him with candid bemusement, and then smiles in exasperation, rolling over and propping up on her elbows. "You… are the _strangest_ known alien I've encountered, in every possible galaxy I've needed to travel to," she announces in a whisper, shaking her head when he lowers the axe carefully and winces, hoping to not disturb Keith napping. "By far."

"The dang _cutest_ too, ain't that right?" Tex says gleefully, joining her on the sheets. He rolls her back over, nuzzling their noses together when they share a quick, heated kiss. "Say it."

"No," Krolia replies tonelessly.

"Say it."

His unshaven, pale cheeks dimple, when he smiles again down on her, mumbling the words over, and over against Krolia's neck and collar-bone, and into her dark blue-and-mauve hair.

"No," Krolia repeats, gripping onto Tex's heavy, huge forearm and pulling it towards her, until he's practically embracing her on the bed. His bunker-gear has the piercing, bitter odor of ash and smoke to it. "The _cutest_ alien is our Earthborn son and you are aware of this."

Tex's laughter may not be thunder but it can send bolts of lightning down Krolia's spine. "Well…" he trails off, gazing over her face adoringly. "Got me there, _darlin_ '…"

The next kiss, scorching and reverberating with their groans, has her tasting the scruff of dark hair growing on his jaw and upper lip. One of Krolia's hands runs over the worn, Nomex-thick material, scrambling and groping along for blunt shape of Tex's newly hardening cock.

"Make love to me," she whispers, fiercely tugging on him. " _Now_ , Tex."

A breathless, moaning laugh. "Yes, ma'am," Tex says, pulling apart the straps and hidden clasps with expert, human-record kind of finesse and it's nowhere near fast enough with Krolia's heart thudding against her rib-cage. "I can… put out that fire for you. Long as you want."

She ignores him, waiting until the bunker-trousers are stripped off before clutching onto Tex's veined, fattening cock and repeatedly stroking over the base. Krolia wants him _inside_ her, more than a tick ago, slowly thrusting and dragging in her channel, before penetrating her harder and more frantically, like he does right before an orgasm. "Be careful with that hose now, little lady," Tex mumbles, his blue-gray eyes glinting. "Might be sensitive to pressure."

Krolia's mouth quirks up despite herself.

" _Shhh_ …" she whispers, pushing the ridge of cockhead past her swollen, purplish-pink vaginal lips. Krolia loosens her inner muscles with a deep, steadying breath, holding him inside her expectantly before Tex's hips start rocking over her and towards her, once, twice, until he's bottoming out, his massive, flesh-warm balls nestled in the cleft of Krolia's ass.

Her hands seize onto Tex's hips, dragging herself up to meet every thrust, panting out. "You should play… _mmhn_ ," Tex pauses, breaking off the sentence to savor the rhythmic deep- _clench_ of Krolia's cunt-muscles around him, "the beautiful and smart and dangerous alien woman who flew out of the sky… who seduces the lonely fireman… … _unnh, fuck_ , and decides to shack up with him and give them a baby and protect some old space relic…"

"And then they live happily ever after…"

Krolia's heart thuds and thuds and quickens inside her, cursing her own lovesick weakness.

"That sounds nice," she murmurs truthfully, embracing him down and cupping Tex's face with both of her violet, slender hands, kissing his brow lightly. " _Very nice_."

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 _Voltron isn't mine. TBH I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR AN GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY TO DO SOMETHING WITH KROLIA AND KEITH'S DAD. AND I GOT IT. I love them. They hurt me a lot. So I'm flushing this out for my NSFW Genre card space "Roleplaying" for Voltron Bingo and I'd love to hear any thoughts on this fic! Thank you so much!  
_


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